


rites

by soulshrapnel



Series: Villainous Kinktober fills 2020 [7]
Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Dathomirian gender roles, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Sex Toys, Vaginal Sex, magical conception, sex ritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26880988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulshrapnel/pseuds/soulshrapnel
Summary: "You're going to bear me a child," Maul said impatiently, as if this was an order no more remarkable than asking her to collect a particular item or punish a particular traitor.(Kinktober, Day 7: Breeding)
Relationships: Darth Maul/Qi'ra
Series: Villainous Kinktober fills 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947379
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	rites

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bittennails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittennails/gifts).



> So the prompt for this was literally just "are you interested in writing Maul/Qi’ra + breeding for Day 7?" and I was delighted by the idea but then, like many other ideas that delight me, it somehow ended up being _way longer and angstier_ on the page than I intended. (Also noncon, which is like... certainly not the first time I've messed around and written about consent issues, but the first time they've been sufficiently black-and-white to me that I've wanted to use the official noncon tag instead of choosing not to warn. Which is a weird feeling.)
> 
> I have no idea if this kind of thing is in line with what you wanted or not but it's what happened.
> 
> (If you don't like it, I have a rough draft of your other prompt and that one's much cheerier ^^;;; )

Maul wanted a baby. It was not an urge he'd ever expected to feel, but it had come over him, overwhelmingly. He had assumed he could not have a lover - for a number of reasons, of which the mechanical nature of half his body was only the most obvious. But that had been proven very wrong. He had Qi'ra now. And if he had that, then through some long-dormant animal instinct, he now wanted everything else that came with it. He wanted a-

(He did not quite think the word _family._ He shied away.)

-a strong child who could fight at his side, a Force-sensitive child, who could help him enact his revenge. Yes. _That_ made perfect sense. After Order 66, there was now a shortage of Force-sensitive children in the galaxy. Even a single one, strong and properly trained and on Maul's side, could tip the scales.

He thought for a while, in between his other schemes, about how to make it happen.

There was Darth Plageuis's technique, of course, for creating life from a distance - but that technique had never been proven to work. And Maul didn't want some random child appearing on some desolate world far away from him. He wanted a child, _his_ child, here on Dathomir, immediately.

He thought very carefully about the meaning of the word _his._

On an impulse, that night, Maul put on a dark cloak and made himself difficult to notice. He found himself creeping to a part of Dathomir he hadn't allowed himself to visit in a long time.

The Nightsisters had been eradicated years ago, but the Nightbrothers still lived, and it wasn't as though the Nightsisters had been the only women on Dathomir. Some Nightbrothers had flown back to Iridonia to rejoin the rest of their species, but not many; the Nighbrothers' way of life was unique, and they preferred to keep their traditions alive here, rather than be strangers on a world where none of them, as individuals, had ever lived.

Maul hid in the shadows of the Nightbrothers' village and watched as the strongest warriors among them sparred. He had not grown up among these men; he had been taken from them so early that he barely remembered it. He watched their rippling muscles, covered in tattoos so much like his own. The grunting, the sweat, the clanging of their weapons. This was only a practice bout, perhaps even recreation, not a true competition for anything important, but their strength and skill were evident. He saw a few Dathomirian women watching, with a cool, superior admiration on their faces. Not Nightsisters, not witches, only the ambitious weeds that had taken root in the Nightsisters' absence.

Maul's fingers twitched. None of these people were Force-sensitive enough to matter. He could have waded in and taken all of them, right now. He could have beaten them at any challenge the Nightsisters posed and ground all his rivals to dust.

And it wouldn't matter, because no Nightsister would ever choose him that way. Oh, the Nightsisters had helped him now and then; he had been their kin. But when it came to _breeding,_ they were very choosy. They wanted their specimens hale, healthy, whole. And, in particular, fertile. They would take one look at his mechanical hips and metal legs, and they'd know he lacked the one thing men were good for.

Still, if Maul wanted a child conceived, it would be logical to come to a place like this. The child would still be his, because he'd be the one who'd made it happen. He imagined it, letting Qi'ra set the challenges and choose a worthy sire, letting the Nightbrothers - or at least those with a modicum of Force ability - fight for her approval. She would like that, he thought. Qi'ra belonged to him, followed his orders, but like any strong woman she would have preferred it the other way. He imagined it, letting her climb atop her chosen mate and-

No. Maul's stomach, what was left of it, clenched. He did not want that.

Besides he wasn't even sure if humans and Dathomirians could interbreed.

But he had a better idea.

*

"You want me to _what?_ " said Qi'ra, as Maul scowled at her over a very secure comms line.

To the rest of the world, Qi'ra was the glamorous leader of Crimson Dawn, a kingpin who had brought the syndicate to its greatest heights. She could not be cowed. She had everything, and she feared nothing.

That was because the rest of the world did not know about Maul.

It was nothing strange to her, of course, being bound to the whims of a more powerful man. Maul was no different from Dryden Vos in that respect, or from many others. He was easier, in some ways; he was more starved for affection than most. He craved her all the more plainly.

But Maul could also do things that no other man could, and he knew it.

"You're going to bear me a child," Maul said impatiently, as if this was an order no more remarkable than asking her to collect a particular item or punish a particular traitor.

"You understand," she said, flabbergasted and fighting to hide it, "why that's not possible."

Maul's eyes narrowed. "I understand my biology very well. But I also understand the Force. I have spent the last several days researching, and I believe there is a way. By combining certain Sith secrets with certain Nightsister techniques - Nightsister magick is all about correspondences, after all, about the coven you're connected to and the earth at your feet. Nightsister magick will keep the child anchored _here,_ and when combined with techniques my old master knew of-" He broke off, as he often did when he realized he was getting too far into the weeds of how the Force worked. "It will work. I am... somewhat sure. You'll come to Dathomir, and you'll bear me a child."

"I don't want to," said Qi'ra, blunt and plain.

It was always a risk, saying the word _no_ directly to a man like Maul. It could be done, but it had to be saved for big things, special occasions. Qi'ra did not want children. They would make it more difficult to do her job, to deal with the galaxy's most hardened criminals, to keep herself safe and survive however she could. They would be a liability, for eighteen years or even longer. They would bind her to Maul for all that time.

"But you will," said Maul, equally blunt. "It is essential to my plans."

Qi'ra swallowed hard. She could tell that this would be one of the orders she couldn't argue with. It was the first _she'd_ heard of this part of his plans, but he was dead serious, and he wouldn't budge. Denying it would only make her look weak.

She forced an exhale, instead, and gave him an unimpressed look. "You must think about how this will affect my other duties. I am the public face of your operations here. Every lowlife working for Crimson Dawn believes they belong to me, not you. If I'm visibly with child, or caring for a baby, it will be twice as hard to make them take me seriously, and I'll have fewer hours in the day to do the work."

"Then tell me what you need," Maul countered. "Servants to assist you, equipment, political favors, strategic displays of force. Anything. I will provide it."

Qi'ra was oddly sure that he was sincere about this, too. Maul didn't negotiate the same way as other men. Someone like Dryden Vos would have quibbled over little things, making them tests, trying to probe her true intentions that way. Maul didn't need to do that; he read minds. When she said she needed something, he would already know if she meant it. If he said _no_ to her, it was because he already understood what she wanted and why, and he'd decided something else was more important. If he said he would give anything she asked, he meant that, too.

Anything but a way out.

Qi'ra took a deep breath and started making a list.

*

He was waiting for her two weeks later when she touched down on Dathomir. He had come through on his promises, making purchases and hires as required for everything she'd asked of him. She had discontinued her birth control. She had briefly considered keeping up with it secretly, and pretending otherwise - the ritual was untested; how hard would it be to pretend it had simply failed? Except she knew exactly how hard that would be, with a man who read minds.

He led her into his lair - a bizarre place, little more than a cave hidden in Dathomir's swamps, but comfortable enough inside. He swept her up in his arms, as if this was a romantic moment. Qi'ra didn't read minds, but she was fairly sure that, to Maul, it _was_ one.

There was something about Maul's secret tenderness that she did enjoy. Qi'ra had been the one who seduced him, on her first visit to Dathomir, all those months ago. It was habit, making herself indispensible that way, and he wasn't unattractive, and she'd had a hunch there would be something in a man like him that longed for love. The touch-starved way he'd clung to her, after that first time, had been even more gratifying than she'd imagined.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. She knew what was expected of her.

When he put her down and broke the kiss, his face was grave. He looked into her eyes searchingly. "You're afraid."

For a sudden, blinding half-second, she hated him.

Maul read minds. He _knew_ what Qi'ra thought about this. He was going to go through with it anyway. And he was fool enough to think he cared about her.

The feeling passed, and she raised her chin. "Fear makes the Dark Side stronger, doesn't it?"

He gripped her upper arm. "You're being foolish; I'm not going to hurt you. Come this way."

He brought her to his bedroom, which had greatly improved since the first time Qi'ra saw it. Maul had used to sleep on a makeshift cot, little more than a pile of rough blankets in the darkest part of the cave, but now that there was someone else in there with him sometimes, he'd become self-conscious. There was an actual bed now, smallish but serviceable, with soft red sheets, and a bedside table with a drawer holding various useful things Maul liked. Today he'd moved that table to the center of the room and had draped it with what looked like a ritual cloth. There was a chalice held up in a spindly device, filled with a cloudy liquid Qi'ra couldn't identify, and there were bowls of something black and glittering.

"I've taken care of most of the preparations," he explained, moving to the table. He flicked some hidden switch and a tiny flame burst to life under the chalice, heating whatever was inside. "There are some that have to be done in the moment. The key is that the ritual has to be bound to your body. The energies have to be contained in your womb, not freed into the general surroundings. And your body will accept them most readily if it knows it has a mate, in something as close to the usual sense as possible." He waved a hand. "Undress."

Qi'ra obeyed, carefully stripping out of her dress, while Maul chanted something ominous and stirred whatever was in that cup. Somehow this part of it didn't surprise her. She knew Maul couldn't father a child naturally, but she'd assumed sex would be part of it somehow. Given how much Maul loved touching her, how keenly he felt the absence of half his body, she suspected he would have included it even if it wasn't strictly necessary.

When she was naked, he beckoned her closer. He slid his arms around her waist, palms flat to her skin, and she braced herself, not knowing exactly what would happen.

"I need a drop of your blood," he said.

Qi'ra raised her hand to Maul's head. She pricked her finger against the sharp tip of one of his horns. She had done this before; she knew how easy it was. When she withdrew, there was a small dot of blood pooling at her fingertip.

Maul guided her hand and let one drop of it fall into the chalice. It sizzled and bubbled as it hit the surface. He then absently did the same thing, raising his hand to his horns and adding a drop of blood of his own.

Qi'ra stood still. Maul wiped his hand and took one of the other bowls, and then, to her surprise, he dropped to his knees. The bowl was full of an odd black substance, and, careful not to let it come in contact with his blood, Maul dipped another finger in and used it to draw a complex sigil on Qi'ra's belly.

Then he straightened, returned the bowl to its place, and gave the chalice a final, thoughtful stir.

"Drink this," he said. She balked, and he gave an irritated sigh. "I told you, it's not going to hurt you."

Pregnancy hurt, though. Qi'ra knew that well enough from the less-fortunate girls she'd known growing up, the ones who might have gotten out if they hadn't suddenly had babies while they were still so young. The ones who'd tried in terror to rid themselves of their pregnancies and only hurt themselves worse. Childbirth hurt. Maul was a liar.

She let him raise the chalice to her lips.

She didn't know what she was drinking, but it went down strangely: thick like something from a juice bar, hot like caf, electric like an over-carbonated drink, but with an unexpectedly mild, sweet taste. He had told the truth in a sense, at least; the drink didn't hurt going down. She swallowed it all.

Maul seemed pleased as he returned the cup to its place. He turned off the flame.

"Here," he said, gently pulling her to the bed.

She followed him with a strange sinking feeling, accompanied by an even stranger relief. This part of the rite, at least, Qi'ra understood. She knew the feeling of letting someone touch her body when she wasn't sure she wanted it. The feeling of, _stars, it's started, this is really what we're doing now._ She could handle that feeling. In a twisted way, she could find pleasure in it.

She kissed him.

Maul was extraordinarily gentle. Qi'ra was more used to him being hungry and urgent, half-overwhelmed, but here he took his time. He nuzzled against her cheek, into the crook of her neck, letting his hands stroke tentatively at her sides as if a harder grip might break her, and she was suddenly struck with the thought that he was trying to soothe her. He still sensed her fear. Maybe he thought he could make it go away like this.

Qi'ra didn't want to think about that.

She pressed close and kissed him harder.

Maul had picked up very quickly on what Qi'ra liked. Only a few months ago he'd had no experience with this at all, but now he knew the ways to kiss and nip, stroke and grasp, that made her body respond. As confidently as if he'd been doing it all his life. When she let herself focus on those things, when she let it only be sensation, it was not difficult. She felt herself panting, with something that could almost have been eagerness, as she stripped him out of his clothes. She let her hands roam, pressing close to his tattooed skin the way he liked. He kept her a few inches distant, protective of that sigil he'd drawn, but she felt his breath picking up as quickly as hers.

He was naked now, the strangeness of his body very apparent, the way the flesh at about navel height disappeared into something complex and mechanical. His legs were nothing but jointed metal like a droid's. He lay back against the scarlet sheets and pulled her down on top of him.

"This is a sacred thing," he murmured to her, between hungry kisses. "You must understand. Creating life is an honor. The whole reason our bodies are made as they are, the reason there is any future at all-"

She kissed him harder just to shut him up.

He hand snaked in between her legs; he was still careful not to disturb the sigil he'd drawn. He'd done his work well, and Qi'ra's body, at least, had not failed her; she was already dripping wet. He stayed there a while, letting his fingers work against her, stilling them sometimes so she could grind against his hand at her own speed.

Then he reached for the bedside table, for the last item he'd so carefully arranged there.

On the first few occasions Qi'ra had been with Maul, he'd been taken by surprise. He'd had nothing to work with but his hands and his mouth, though he'd made good use of them. But since then he'd taken to collecting other toys, phallic or otherwise; he liked having dozens of ways he could please her. This one was a realistically-shaped vibrator, red in color and metal at its core, and there was a magnet set into its base. When he set it between his legs, it attached to him with a sharp click. He turned something slightly at the bottom of the toy, turning the vibration on low.

Then he took her by the hips, his grip contracting with need. He guided her over top of him, so the tip of the toy brushed against her slick lower lips, thrumming against her.

"Please," he whispered, with his hands so tight around her.

There was something about Maul, even at his worst. Even at his most domineering - there was an animal side to him, something that clung to her with such _need._

She let herself slowly sink down.

They had used this toy before, and she liked the feel of it, knew its rhythms. It took up its pulsing space inside her and she knew how to ride it the way she liked, tilting her hips back and forth cautiously at first while her body warmed up to it.

She watched Maul, as he shifted underneath her and bit his lower lip, as he ran those urgent hands of his down her thighs so as not to force her hips faster. She knew he couldn't feel this, not the way a man would feel a flesh-and-blood cock, but his gaze was fixed raptly on hers, the pupils blown wide with pleasure.

"Ride me," he ordered, breathless.

She clapped her hands down over his, stopping them from moving. She'd learned that he liked this sort of thing, sometimes. She was surprised how breathless her own voice sounded to her ears. "Not yet."

She took her time, rocking slowly to get the toy up against just the right spots. Only then did she speed up the way he wanted, letting the feeling of it build. Qi'ra was good at this. She could set the pace however she needed to. Sensation filled her mind the way it always did, and she was no longer thinking about what he was really doing to her, about what she feared-

(That was a lie. She still felt the strange aftertaste of the potion she'd drunk. Something far in the back of her mind was still calculating: working its way through that list of people and tools she'd demanded from him, wondering if it could possibly be enough. It was just that Qi'ra knew how to separate those feelings from the moment, how to wall them off from her body for a while.)

"Yes," Maul hissed as she neared her peak. He often became more active at this point, grinding against her with an urgency that matched her own, but this time he stayed still, watching her with a look of great concentration. He reached to the side to dip his fingers into that black bowl again. She knew that this was all about trying to put her body in the right state to conceive. She knew that he was waiting to complete the ritual.

But it wasn't as though she could stop. She'd known that from the beginning.

She kept moving. She let her body do what her body did. And she came, gritting her teeth against a sound that was almost a sob.

With a decisive motion, Maul drew a final line across the sigil on her skin, completing it. He barked out a couple of short words in whatever that ritual language was. And then he smiled, suddenly and widely, as if he'd delighted himself.

Qi'ra caught her breath, sweating, unsure if it was safe yet to move. The vibrator was still buzzing inside her, but she wanted to be done with it.

The strangest thing was that she hadn't felt anything, besides the obvious. No sudden rush of strange energies through her core. No flash of light or eerie sound. It had felt more or less the way coming always felt.

Maul motioned, and she lifted herself gingerly up off the toy. He turned it off and removed it. She moved to get up, but he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her down to the bedspread with him. Maul craved to be physically touched. He would never admit it outside the bounds of this room, but he was a cuddler.

Qi'ra stared down into the blankets, letting him have his moment.

"I didn't feel anything," she said. "I don't think it worked."

"No, it worked. I felt it." Maul was still smiling, glowing even - she could tell even though she wasn't looking at him. Full of affection, triumph, _hope._ Maul had wanted this so badly. It was important to him.

To _him,_ Qi'ra knew. Not to his plans. Though he'd never admit it.

She set her jaw, and then pushed up from the bedspread. "I need to shower." She needed to scrub this sigil off of herself completely, for all the good it would do.

This time, he didn't resist. He did trail his hand along her hair as she stood, tender and uncertain.

Somewhere, Qi'ra thought, there was a foolish, good-hearted boy flying around in a spaceship of his own, free to go wherever he wanted to. A boy who would never have to make choices like these.

"I don't want you to be unhappy," Maul said. He sounded sincere. He sounded almost - puzzled. "I want to make this easy for you. Tell me what you want."

But Qi'ra had already told him that, weeks ago.

She walked away.


End file.
